4. His Difficulties and the Publication of The Fourfold State by F R Daubney
Trouble, however, in one form or another, was never far away. In 1717 the General Assembly was called upon to give its judgement on what became known as the Auchterarder Creed. This was a proposition, prepared by the Presbytery of Auchterarder, in Perthshire, which had been put to a student for the ministry, applying for licence to preach. I think they had some doubts about the student’s orthodoxy. The so-called creed said, “It is not sound and orthodox to teach that we must forsake sin in order to our coming to Christ, and instating us in covenant with God”. It was awkwardly worded and widely misinterpreted. It sounded Antinomian, as if it was giving licence to a lawless life. It is, of course, nothing of the kind; it is sound, scriptural doctrine. Christ came to save sinners, not the righteous. We must come to Him confessing our sinnership and seeking forgiveness. If we wait until we have forsaken sin, we will never come, because it is impossible for the natural heart to do so.
“Never will you forsake sin evangelically,” says Ebenezer Erskine, “till once Christ comes to you and you to Him. When Christ comes into the temple, He drives out all the buyers and sellers; therefore let Him in, and He will make the home clean.” Nevertheless, the Auchterarder creed was condemned by the Assembly. As I previously mentioned, Boston had closely studied his copy of The Marrow of Modern Divinity, which dealt with exactly this subject. Although he did not speak in the Assembly debate, Boston mentioned his treasured book to a colleague, who obtained a copy for himself and then lent it to a fellow minister, James Hogg of Carnock, who published a new edition of the book in 1718.
This resulted in a heated debate. The Marrow was attacked in Synod sermons. It was debated in the General Assembly and, by an Act of May 1720, it was condemned. It was a book which had been specifically recommended by the Divines of the Westminster Assembly in 1643, but now, less than 80 years later, the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland prohibited ministers from preaching, writing, printing or circulating anything in its favour and instructed them to warn their congregations against reading it. Many ministers and members of the Church were astounded and upset. Boston had not been a member of the Assembly that year and he was very grieved to hear the news. He could have let it go, but the book was too precious to him. His complaints to presbytery and synod were in vain.
He, therefore, with others, drew up a petition which was laid before the Assembly of 1721. The document was known as “The Representation”, and it remonstrated against the Assembly’s Act of the previous year as an unwarranted restraint upon the liberty of ministers. It said that the Act was a rejection of doctrines which were precious and fully warranted by Scripture; it was a “wounding of Christ in the house of His friends”. It was clear from the wording of the petition that the 12 ministers who compiled it were not seeking to make a party-political point but were seeking to conserve the truth. The Representers were given 12 questions to answer, which covered the controverted points. This they did with great care and a deeply religious tone. The answers were apparently never received by the Assembly.
One can only assume that the Commission set up to examine The Marrow of Modern Divinity was biased against the evangelical principles elucidated in the book, and that the majority of the Assembly had never read it. How else could they condemn a book which came with the approval of the Westminster Assembly and was described by Joseph Caryl, who was appointed by the Westminster Assembly to approve theological works for the press, as “a discourse so stored with many necessary and seasonable truths confirmed by Scripture and avowed by many approved writers”.
The outcome of the Assembly was that “The Representation” was not only condemned, but its 12 supporters, including James Hogg, Thomas Boston, Ebenezer and Ralph Erskine, were ordered to be rebuked at the bar of the Assembly. The “Marrowmen” suffered their rebuke calmly. Thomas Boston said, “I received the rebuke and admonition as an ornament put upon me for the cause of truth”. “It is better”, said another, “to be under the reproach of men for following Christ, than to be under the curse of God for forsaking Him.” Nevertheless the 12 men handed in a protest which was not allowed to be read in the Assembly, asserting that they regarded it lawful to continue to preach and teach the truths contained in the Marrow.
In the following years, the Marrow was purchased and read by many to their great benefit. Boston said, “That struggle, through the mercy of God, turned to the advantage of truth in our Church, both among the ministers and the people. . . . Few public differences have had such good effects, and saving truths have, in our day, been set in an uncommon light”.
In the Marrow controversy, people saw a group of well-respected ministers who, for conscience’ sake, were prepared to stand fast for evangelical truths against the Church’s will and against the dry, dead preaching that was heard from many pulpits. Boston went on to write and publish extensive notes on The Marrow of Modern Divinity by way of explanation and commentary. This book is still useful and profitable today.
As we mentioned earlier, Boston was in Simprin when he preached his series of sermons on man in his state of innocence, state of nature, state of grace and eternal state. In 1708 and 1709 he amended and extended his sermon notes and preached them again to the people of Ettrick. It was at this point that his friend and physician, Dr Trotter, persuaded him that he ought to publish some of his material. The notes of this series of sermons appeared to be the best prospect for publication, but Boston hesitated for a long time, seeking the Lord’s will on the matter. The sermons had been greatly blessed, both in Simprin and in Ettrick and, when printed, they would reach a far wider audience. They might even be read by people in the parish who never came into the church, thought Boston.
He had no ambition other than the hope that a blessing would follow. He could never have imagined the eventual outcome – that the book, Human Nature in Its Fourfold State, would be read by multitudes and prove a blessing down to the present day, 300 years later.
In 1718 Boston, through the help of his friend Dr Trotter, sent the first part of his manuscript to Edinburgh with a view to finding a publisher and printer. The following January he received a letter from a Mr Wightman, who, after reading the manuscript, offered to contribute to its publication – though he did comment “that the style would be nauseous to the polite world”. Understandably, Boston was not impressed with that criticism and he thought Wightman’s way of writing was not the way the Lord used in advancing Christianity, but after much prayer he decided to leave Wightman to go ahead with the publication.
However, when the printer sent him the first of the pages for approval he was astounded. The book had been “pitifully mangled” and was full of typographical errors. Wightman had altered it in many places to his own satisfaction and had completely spoiled those parts of the book. By this time it was nearly complete, needing only a title page and preface. Boston was terribly upset. His wife was going through an episode of great mental anguish and distress, but he had to leave her to dash to Edinburgh (50 miles away) and put a stop to the publication. When he arrived in the capital he found that even the preface had been re-written in “modish style”. He stopped the press immediately and then discovered that most of the authentic copy had been destroyed by the printers after they had done with it.
Thankfully he was finally able to leave the management of the printing to a William Hogg, a Christian who was well known and respected in Edinburgh. Hogg went to a great deal of trouble to ensure that things went smoothly thereafter. Wightman was given clear and firm instructions to work with Hogg and to alter nothing without the author’s approval. Inevitably the rewriting of the lost pages involved Boston in a great deal of extra work.
On 6 November 1720 he received a bound copy of the Fourfold State. He spread it before the Lord in prayer, pleading that His blessing would go with it. Almost immediately it took hold. New editions were called for, and testimonies of its usefulness came pouring in. And no wonder – the book was steeped in prayer. As a later publisher says, “It is so orderly and clear, so rich . . . so searching and here and there so softening; so full, for all its doctrine, of warmth and human life . . . so couched in language of the homeliest . . . rising at times into unquestionable eloquence.”
^1 Last month’s section of this Theological Conference paper dealt with the spiritual growth seen in the early part of Boston’s ministry in Ettrick.
There is an entire harmony between the forgiving mercy, or pardoning act, of the Father and the dying act of the Son.
James Gibson